


And Would It Have Been Worth It, After All

by 27dragons



Series: The Love Song of J. Buchanan Barnes [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, BDSM, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Flashbacks, Light Bondage, M/M, Overstimulation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sub Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:02:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3562283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And so what? Okay? So the fuck <em>what</em>? Steve, I'm fine!" Bucky did not shrink from Steve's glare. "As fine as I usually am, anyway, all right? I believe you that it was bad in the moment, but since I can't remember any of it, I am one hundred percent okay with just chalking it up to a learning experience and moving the hell on!"</p>
<p>Steve threw up his hands in frustration. "How can it be a learning experience if I don't even know what set you off?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Would It Have Been Worth It, After All

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [值得与否](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7136609) by [hamLock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamLock/pseuds/hamLock)



> **Warning:** This... does _not_ have a particularly happy ending. I'm really sorry for that. But if you know me, then you know I am a firm believer in happy endings, and this series has (at least) two more stories left to go. Hang in there, and I hope to make it worth all the ache and pain.

Bucky dragged in air like he had found the asthma Steve had left behind in 1943, each breath a forceful gasp that sounded like his lungs were lined with glass. His hair was plastered to his skull with sweat, every inch of skin glistening. He stared blankly at the ceiling, his hands twisting restlessly in the soft ropes that bound them to the headboard.

"Steve," he panted. "Stevie. I'm done, baby, I can't do no more."

Steve hummed as he dragged the washcloth over Bucky's abdomen and hips, cleaning and cooling and soothing. "Oh, I think you can go a little longer."

"No," Bucky groaned. "I'm _done_ , Stevie. Can't take any more."

"I say you can." Steve leaned forward to kiss Bucky, noting with amusement the hunger with which Bucky sucked on his tongue despite all the protests. "You can have a short breather, though," Steve said when he pulled away, magnanimous. "Want some water?"

"Fuckinhellyes," Bucky said, slurring the words together. "You wore me the hell out. Give me some water and let me go the fuck to sleep."

"Mm." Steve reached for another bottle of water -- he'd brought in a whole eight-pack before they'd started so he wouldn't have to leave for the kitchen -- and cracked the top. "Lift your head a little," he told Bucky.

"Fuck you, I can't move," Bucky said.

"C'mon, lift up or I'm going to just pour the water in your open mouth and you'll choke on it."

Bucky whimpered in protest, but lifted his head a few inches off the bed.

Steve slipped his own hand behind Bucky's neck for support and held the water bottle to Bucky's lips, tipping the water in a swallow at a time.

Bucky drank about three-quarters of it before he shook his head to indicate he was done, and dropped it back to the mattress. "Done," he reiterated. "No way I'm getting it up again, Stevie. What was that -- five, six?"

Steve recapped the bottle and stretched out at Bucky's side, walking his fingers idly over Bucky's chest and stomach. "Six," he affirmed. He'd come three times, himself, but tonight's plan was to find out how many times he could get Bucky to come. They'd been at it for hours -- it was well past midnight, maybe closer to two. Bucky's last had been all but dry, and looked like it had contained as much pain as pleasure. But Bucky's bitching hadn't contained a single hint of safeword, yet, not even a yellow, so Steve was pretty sure he could pull one more orgasm out before they were done for the night.

Steve's wandering fingers made their way down the vee of Bucky's hip. "How's your ass?"

"It's _done_ ," Bucky said, trying to squirm away from Steve's touch. "Closed up shop, locked the door, and gone home for the night. _Done_."

Steve laughed and scooted further down the bed, smacking lightly at the inside of Bucky's thigh in wordless command.

"No," Bucky whined, but Steve smacked his thigh again and he opened his legs wider with a put-upon sigh. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"But what a way to go," Steve teased, sliding between Bucky's legs to examine his hole. It was a little red, but not too bad. Steve pressed a finger against it gently, testing the edges, and Bucky hissed.

"No, Steve," Bucky groaned. "No. Come on."

"You should be up for an award for all the drama you're throwing around here," Steve observed drily. He pressed a little harder, and his finger slid in easily, right to the second knuckle. "Look at that. All loose and easy for me, still so wet I probably don't even need any more lube." He reached for the lube anyway.

Bucky let out a grunt that ended in a whimper. "You like it like that, don'tcha, baby?" he asked, taunting as if he wasn't already wrecked. "Like it when I'm loose and sloppy? Already full of slick and spunk, wet as a good-time girl?"

Steve pushed the rest of the way in and grinned at the way Bucky's limp cock twitched against his belly. He dribbled on a little extra lube and started thrusting his finger in and out, slow and easy. "Like you any way I can get you, Buck; you know that."

Bucky twisted his hips, and Steve wasn't sure if he was trying to get away or trying to get more. "You love it," Bucky challenged. "Love knowing you've been there before. Love seeing the evidence. Feeling it. Feeling how loose I am 'cause you jackhammered me open already."

Steve snorted and pushed in a second finger. "Go on, keep talking like you weren't begging for it."

Bucky gasped as Steve pressed even deeper, pushing at his prostate. "Hell yeah, I was begging," Bucky breathed. "'Course I was, you're so fuckin'--" He bit off with a low whine as his cock started to fill. "Fuck, Steve. I can't. I can't."

"Sure you can," Steve crooned, stroking up against Bucky's prostate again. "You don't have to do anything. Just relax and let me do it for you."

"No," Bucky whimpered. "Stevie, baby, I can't, I, I, hurt, it hurts."

"Aw, sweetheart," Steve said soothingly. "What'd I say about pain?"

"Steve..."

"What'd I say, Buck?" Steve lowered his head and licked at the head of Bucky's cock, short, gentle licks to tease it back to full hardness.

Bucky's hips came off the bed and his hands twisted in their ropes again. "It's for you," he recited quickly, as if getting the words out faster might change anything. "I'm hurtin' for you."

"That's right," Steve said. "Good job." He licked at Bucky's cock again, a slow stripe up the whole length, his fingers still pushing and scissoring. "I'm going to make you hurt whenever I want to, because you're so damn beautiful when you're hurting." He pressed deep again.

"Steve, baby, fuck, _fuck_ , oh Stevie," Bucky gasped. "Wanna... Wanna suck you."

"Hmm, I think you're just stalling now," Steve said. He worked a third finger into Bucky's ass, grinning at the way Bucky ground down onto his hand. "You already got a break. Maybe if you're good, you'll get to suck me off before the next one."

"Stevie, _no_ ," Bucky whined. "Jesus wept, this is already gonna kill me. There ain't gonna be no _next one_ , not for a week at least!"

"We'll see," Steve said, though privately he thought Bucky was probably right that they were done for at least the night after this. He wasn't going to admit it, though. Bucky liked not knowing what Steve was going to do next. "Gotta be good."

"I'm good," Bucky protested. "Damn it, Steve, I'm bein' fucking good."

"You are," Steve agreed. "Keep it up." He sucked the head of Bucky's cock into his mouth and hummed around it, leaning hard to still the frantic jerking of Bucky's hips.

"Steve, _Steve_ , oh my god I am literally seeing stars, you..." The ropes creaked a little as Bucky twisted his hands in them. "Please, Steve, _please_. God, it hurts, it hurts so bad, it's good but it hurts..."

"I know, sweetheart," Steve said, pulling off to return to those light, teasing licks. "I know. You're so gorgeous when you're like this. Desperate and begging, needing more and knowing I'm not going to let you have it until I'm good and ready."

"Yeah," Bucky sighed. "Yeah, Steve, shit, _yes_."

"Look at you." Steve nuzzled at Bucky's balls, twisting his hand so he could press his thumb lightly into Bucky's perineum. Bucky shuddered, moaning, and cursed again.

His hips were jerking, his hands twisting aimlessly in their bonds, but his shoulders were loose and soft, the roll of his neck when he tossed his head was easy, and Steve knew Bucky was exactly where he wanted to be. "You're so beautiful," Steve said again. "You suffer so prettily. It's like you're giving me a gift, you know that?"

Bucky's breathing sped up and he whimpered. How did it feel, Steve wondered briefly, to give himself over like that, to offer himself up?

"You're so gorgeous," Steve said. He worked his hand faster, moved his mouth back to Bucky's cock. Still gentle, but faster, in time with his hand, and just a fraction firmer. "Love you so much," he murmured between licks. "You let me do this for you, to you, and it makes me so happy."

He pushed deep and twisted his wrist, dragging all three fingers across Bucky's prostate. "Need you to give it up for me, Buck, one more time." He twisted again and Bucky's whole body jerked in a spasm. "One last time. For me, sweetheart, come on."

Bucky made a groaning, tearing noise, small and pained and frustrated, and Steve wondered if he'd pushed beyond Bucky's capabilities after all. He glanced up at Bucky's face and--

\--eyes wide in fear and locked desperately at some distant point, pupils constricted--

\--hands clenched into fists, flesh knuckles white--

\--chest heaving with short, shallow breaths--

\--teeth clenched and jaw locked, throat swollen with a scream--

"Oh, shit! Bucky!" Steve bolted upright and scrambled for the dangling release for the rope. "Bucky, talk to me, can you talk to me?" Bucky hadn't been talking for a while now, he suddenly realized, and he'd been too caught up in his own thoughts to notice. _Damn it_. "Bucky, I'm sorry, I'm so-- Look, I'm getting you out of this, okay?" He untied the rope with hands that shook, but when he released Bucky's hands and threw the rope to the floor, Bucky's arms just flopped loose, unresponsive.

"Buck? Can you hear me?"

Steve waved a hand across Bucky's face, but he didn't track the movement. "Damn it, I don't..." Steve put a hand on Bucky's chest. He was still breathing in short pants, and under Steve's hand, his heart was racing. "Come on, Buck, come back to me. I'm sorry, whatever I did wrong, I'm sorry, I won't do it again, just come back to me, please."

Bucky didn't move. Steve pushed down his own panic and tried to think.

Bucky had gone through episodes like this before, when he'd first come home, too caught in the net of memory to respond to the world around him. They'd never lasted long, ten or fifteen minutes at the most before he'd come back. It had been _months_ since the last time. Steve must have done something _horrible_ , however unwittingly.

_He's always come back_ , Steve reminded himself firmly.

Besides, however much he had fucked up, it was up to him to take care of Bucky right now. Steve forced himself to leave Bucky's side for the thirty seconds it took to find a wastebasket and empty it, in case Bucky needed to throw up, and then he dashed to the kitchen for Bucky's emergency meds. He set the wastebasket on the floor by the bed and the pill bottles on the nightstand by the mostly-empty bottle of water.

Clothing next. He found a couple pairs of sweatpants and put one pair on, then carefully dressed Bucky in the other. Bucky's cock was still hard, oddly, pointing at Steve accusingly as he eased the waistband up over Bucky's hips.

He found the sheets and blankets that they'd shoved onto the floor several hours ago, straightened them out and pulled them up over Bucky's body, too-still on the bed except for the rapid bellows of Bucky's chest.

Steve stared at Bucky's unseeing eyes and wondered if he would need another blanket. Bucky always came out of these episodes shivering like a leaf in a storm. He usually curled up next to Steve for the warmth, but after this, Steve wouldn't blame him if he didn't want Steve in the room, or even in the apartment.

Steve took one uncertain step toward the hall closet, and then another.

"No, _no_!" Bucky shot upright and scrambled to the far side of the bed, fighting the blankets madly. He nearly fell, then recovered and jumped to the floor. He pressed into the corner, his hands raised defensively. His eyes searched the room in wild terror.

His gaze landed on Steve and stuck there. Terror and hope warred on Bucky's face.

Steve lifted his hands slowly, showing them empty. "It's me, Bucky. It's Steve. I'm sorry I--" No. _No_ , there was a protocol for this, damn it. "Do you know me? Do you know where you are?"

Bucky's eyes darted again: the window, the dresser, the picture on the wall. Back to Steve. "Steve," he grated, and relaxed, just a fraction. "Manhattan. Twenty... twenty-fifteen."

"That's right," Steve said, and felt the cold twist of fear in his chest ease, just a bit. "Bucky. I'm sorry, I'm so-- I'm so sorry. I should've been paying more attention and... I'm sorry."

Bucky kept his eyes on Steve as they considered that, forcing himself to breathe slower. Steve could see him beginning to shiver with reaction, but was afraid to come closer without Bucky's express permission.

After a moment, Bucky pushed off the wall and sat cross-legged on the bed, pulling the blankets back up around himself. "Steve?" he asked, looking up.

"Yeah, Buck?" Steve didn't bother trying to sound calm.

Bucky looked around the room again, more slowly, then shoved a hand through his damp hair before pulling it back under the blankets. "What, uh. What happened?"

***

"You're really sure you don't remember anything?"

"For the four hundredth time, I'm sure." Bucky was still feeling chilled, so he was wearing sweatpants and socks and three layers of shirts and was sitting in the corner of the couch wrapped in a blanket, a mug of hot chocolate clutched in his human hand. He looked tired, but probably no more than he should considering that it was coming up on dawn and neither of them had slept all night. There was no fear or pain lurking in his eyes. He just looked like Bucky, slightly tired and a little chilly.

Steve, sitting on the other end of the couch, suspected he himself looked rather worse.

Bucky didn't remember being triggered, or what memories he'd been stuck in. He barely remembered yelling "No" as he jolted awake, and had no idea at all what it was that he'd been saying no _to_. He remembered them going to bed, and most of the sex -- swore he'd been enjoying it -- and then a sudden jolt of sourceless terror, a moment of disorientation, and coming back to himself standing in the corner, staring at Steve.

He didn't remember Steve triggering him, and he didn't remember that Steve had failed to _notice_ that he'd been triggered for, apparently, some time. And so he still trusted Steve implicitly.

Which was a problem because obviously, Steve could not be trusted.

Bucky, naturally, was being stubborn about it. "Steve, it's not that big a deal, seriously."

"Not that big a deal? Are you kidding me? Bucky, you blanked out! I have no idea what was happening in your head, but the fact that I still had three _fingers_ in you at the time could not have been making things any better!" Steve usually blushed when he had to talk about sex outside of the moment, but nothing could be less sexy than this discussion.

"You can't know that," Bucky argued. "Maybe it was my lifeline!"

Steve snorted. "That is the worst bullshit I have ever--"

"And so what? Okay? So the fuck _what_? Steve, I'm fine!" Bucky did not shrink from Steve's glare. "As fine as I usually am, anyway, all right? I believe you that it was bad in the moment, but since I can't remember any of it, I am one hundred percent okay with just chalking it up to a learning experience and moving the hell on!"

Steve threw up his hands in frustration. "How can it be a learning experience if I don't even know what set you off?"

Bucky shrugged and sipped his cocoa. "So tell me what you said, and I'll tell you if anything jumps out as a possibility."

"And set you off again? Anyway, I'm not repeating all that now."

"If I'm expecting something, it's not so bad. And whaddya mean, 'all that'? How much could there be?"

Oh, _there_ was the blush. Steve steadfastly refused to rub at the heat on his neck. "I was talking right along for a while there before I realized you'd left me, and I have no idea exactly where you checked out!"

Bucky's eyebrows rose. "You worked yourself up to dirty talk for me and I _missed_ it? Okay, now I _am_ pissed."

"This isn't a joke."

"I didn't say it was. Look, I'm the one who fell apart. Don't you think I'm the one who should be making the decision about whether I'm willing to risk it again?"

"Considering you don't _remember_ the experience, and I _do_ \-- then no!" Steve folded his arms. "Dammit, will you stop taking it so lightly? I was still going after you'd clocked out -- that makes it _rape_ , Bucky!"

Bucky's mouth dropped open. "Are you even _listening_ to yourself right now? Jesus fucking Christ, you _stopped_ as soon as you realized! Are you _trying_ to--" Bucky was beginning to look actually distressed, finally, though Steve suspected it was for the wrong reasons. "Steve, you don't... you're not..." Bucky's lipped thinned. "Are you calling a halt? To us?"

Steve knew he should say yes, should end it entirely, but he just couldn't. "Not a halt," he said. "But a... a pause. For some things, anyway."

Bucky looked down into his hot chocolate. "Like sex," he said.

"That's right," Steve said, setting his jaw mulishly.

"And... the pain."

Steve felt Bucky's quiet, hurt tone like a punch to the chest, but made himself nod. "Yes."

Bucky's metal arm wrapped around his legs, pulling him into a tight knot. "What _can_ I have? Restraints?" he whispered, his voice cracking.

Steve hesitated. They'd had the one bad moment with restraints, but Bucky hadn't panicked so hard that he'd been unable to use the safeword. And Bucky still needed _something_ to keep him grounded. "I think," Steve said softly, "I think I can still trust myself with that, as long as it's not mixed up with the... with the other stuff."

Bucky huffed out a sigh, and his shoulders sagged. "All right," he managed. "For... for a while. I can make do." He tipped his head to look at Steve, and his eyes were bright with unshed tears. "I know you're freaking out, and I'll try to give you some space to work it out. But I want us to move forward again, Steve. I want it back. I love you, more than I'll ever be able to say. But if you think you're not going to be able to work around this mess in your head, I need to know."

And that was a punch to the gut, stealing the breath out of Steve's lungs. "Would you... would you leave me?"

Bucky didn't say no immediately, and Steve felt panic scrambling at the back of his brain. He had to clench his teeth to keep from begging Bucky not to leave him. Bucky had to be free to make decisions and choices, even if they were decisions and choices that would shatter Steve. He held his breath and waited.

"We'd... have to talk about some alternatives," Bucky finally said. He didn't meet Steve's eyes as he said it, but his tone was firm.

"Alternatives," Steve said. He thought he knew what that meant, and jealousy warred with guilt in his stomach, a writhing, oily mess of snakes.

"If it comes to it," Bucky said, tucking his face into the curve of his arm. He sounded wrecked. "Only... Only if I have to."

Steve wanted to comfort Bucky, wanted to beg for reassurance himself, but under the circumstances, couldn't think of a single thing to say that had a hope of making things any better. Tears burned his own eyes, scalded his face. "What- Whatever you need, Buck."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr as [everyworldneedslove](http://everyworldneedslove.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
